


Collision

by tatooedlaura



Series: Interception [3]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 18:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: collision in the dark ...





	Collision

Under covers, barred against the air-conditioned sterility of the room, pitch black night surrounded them, the unexpected black out curtains Mulder landed when he took this room masked so much light that even after a few minutes, she couldn’t see anything in front of her face, including her partner, estimated to be about six miles and 12 inches away.

“It is really dark in here.”

“Yes, it is. I thought I told you about the curtains?”

Shaking her head, feeling stupid because he couldn’t see her, “nope. I like them though.”

“Why do you like them and why are we whispering?”

“Because it is very dark and very mysterious and very … whisper-y.”

He waited for his second question answer but it didn’t come, so he prompted not so subtly with, “why do you like them?”

When she said she was ignoring a line, by God, she meant she would be ignoring a line and groping across the sheets, running into his chin and sliding down to his neck, she swallowed her pride, her fear and quite possibly all of her willpower, “because then no one, not even me, can see what we’re doing.”

Capturing her hand, he bought it back up to his cheek, curling his fingers around hers, scratching his two-day beard growth lightly, cheeks pulling up in a smile, “and what don’t we want us to see?”

She took over the scratching until she’d covered both cheeks and his chin, “whatever might happen.”

“You don’t want us to see us sleeping? I don’t think it’ll be difficult.”

Once done with his face, she reached around, playing with his ear, “did you have an earring?”

“In a past life, yes, but as I grew to be the great Fox Mulder you don’t see before you, I took it out, let it close up.” Fingernail scrapping behind that same ear, his eyes closed, the same dark presented to him but feeling closer, more intimate, “mmmmm, I like that.”

“Ear fetish?”

He was fast racing to complete confessional nightmare but answer he did, half-drunk on her already, “Scully fetish. You’re touching me and I can’t see you and I’m enjoying it more than you can imagine.”

She was beginning to like the dark and the secrets it held, boldness creeping to the surface, that Scully of years gone by who let her boyfriend touch her in the dark movie theater and did her own touching under cover of popcorn buckets and hastily placed jackets, “should we get some sleep then?”

“I think,” reaching over, mistepping to find first her shoulder, then her hand before landing on her cheek, “that we shouldn’t say anything more at all because I for one will start spilling every secret I have and no one needs that. Not right now.”

Her heart thudded twice, then went into overdrive with the implications of his statement and as the goosebumps covered her arms, “so, no talking but no sleeping?”

Fingers running along eyebrows, around temple and bump of cheekbone, “no sleeping.”

And from that point on it was quiet.

&&&&&&&&&&

They ran into each other’s hands at first, looking blindly for what to touch next, shoulder, thrumming neck vein, never ending collar bone to endless depth hollow at base of throat. He spent what felt like hours simply running his fingers up and down the back of her neck, bumping spine, circling bone while she became endlessly fascinated with his ribs, bare as they were because he didn’t sleep in a shirt unless he had to.

She counted them in her head, smoothed along, breadth and width, moving up to her gunshot wound in his shoulder, down to raised stitch scars from battle number 428 with the world. Had his skin always felt like this? Had it always had this many contours, this many muscles, this many tendons covering beautiful bones?

Drunk with tactile warmth, she wished across the expanse of bed that he’d come closer, allow her to reach his back, strong, wide, begging for her hands to feel.

He moved, scooted forward, reaching for her as she craved him, hands under her shirt, not higher than ribs but skirting smooth roundness, knuckles bumping self-forbidden area and wondering when in the world he’d died and gone to heaven.

Ribs planked under his hands, belly flat and muscled yet softer than soft, too tempting to stay, he drifted around her side, feeling raised tattoo, deep dip of spine and lack of air made him dizzy.

Exploring forever his back, his chest, going so far as to brush fingers over nipples, she began wondering if touch only meant with hands. She would have debated further but suddenly, Mulder was venturing down her back, down, down, down until every fiber, muscle, inner world shivered as his hand moved below her waistband, not as hesitant, not as fearful as he, eventually, years after he started it seems, palmed her ass.

And she thought she had goosebumps before …

As he began kneading, feeling, squeezing, her pants sliding as he worked and not even fathoming stopping their drift, she lifted her hip, gave him the hint which he picked up in an instant and pushed the offending garment down so while still covering front, her bare ass was presented to the cool of the room, the air making her shiver more, only then realizing the covers had long disappeared at their feet, to the floor, who gave a shit at this point.

She refused to believe this foreplay was leading to nothing yet, in all honesty, the leading to nothing part turned her on more. They weren’t rushed to anything, could do this for hours, not worry about the next step, be in the moment but never leave the moment.

She was about as wet as she’d ever been and still 90% clothed.

&&&&&&

Good Lord.

She lifted her hip.

Holy shit, she lifted her hip and he pushed her pants down and now … now … her ass … in his hand …

Her ass.

In. His. Hand.

How in the world was he keeping quiet when all he wanted to do was thank her, ad infinitum, for the opportunity to do what only existed in thoughts in the shadowed corner of his apartment, on the couch, in the bathroom, in the shower …

He always finished too fast with these thoughts, never able to slow the pace to enjoy the idea of hand on ass, to study the feeling of it against his fingers …

There was no need for speed tonight.

Every so often, box scores but he could deal with that.

&&&&&&&&&&

Her damn shirt was killing them both. He felt like a stodgy teenager coping a feel and she felt like she was 15 again letting a boy under her shirt.

Enough of that nonsense.

Sitting up, she shucked her shirt across the room and in a fit of untested mettle, she also kicked her pants off, suddenly and shiveringly exposed to Mulder’s world.

Dislodging him disappointed him to no end but a second later, she was back, naked as the day she was born and waiting for him to discover that she was.

It didn’t take long.

His hand gravitated back to where he thought her belly would be and he found nothing.

Not a blood stitch of worn cotton.

Nothing.

Creeping his fingers down a bit, he encountered belly button, drop of muscle, and then, fuck … he felt the beginnings of hair on a slight upward slope.

He was dead. He had to be.

Moving away from one unthinkable paradise, he passed bellybutton on return trip, moving up until he felt hint of breast and following sternum up until he met her throat … nothing.

Not a God-damned thing.

She was naked.

And he was touching her.

He had to stop.

For a few minutes at least.

Feeling like a complete asshole, he finally had to speak, just to let her know, “I need a minute.”

“I know.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

It was more like five but both survived, mostly because Scully needed that time as well.

She’d stripped to nothing.

Not even … well, hell, if she’d have had socks on, she’d have tossed those, too. Who was she kidding?

After a few deep breaths, she deemed both herself and Mulder calm enough to continue and rolling to her side, began nudging the edge of his sweatpants, toying with the string, running her fingers ever so lightly just below the elastic.

They’d moved beyond games in the dark and both knew it.

Standing, he dropped the pants to the ground, underwear following a second later and reaching for her, rolled her away from him as he lay behind …

And maneuvered himself so her thighs were squeezing him before pulling her flush against his chest.

The light growl in her throat made him see stars.

Her ass pushing back against his pelvis didn’t help him much either.

Hand over her, he finally drifted it up, ran into her breast and encased it, large fingers around her, hard nipple pushing into his palm.

The growling moan returned.

And her hand came up to cover his, her hips pushing back against him, trying desperately to get closer and fighting that she only knew of one other way to do that.

He kissed the back of her neck, worked his hand, ground against her …

If she didn’t watch it, he’d make her come without touching more than he was.

She wasn’t easy but with him, it was.

&&&&&&&&

Knowing when to stop, when even box scores weren’t working, he backed away from her, sliding himself from between slick thighs, kissing his way down her spine, over her side, rolling her to her back to he could pay attention to her abdomen with his tongue before moving up, up, up round to suck in circular, rough, knobby, metallic-tasting glory.

She really wanted to get him between her thighs and maneuvering a little, got both heels locked around his back, pulling him close, close until part met part, clit met shaft and she rubbed against him again and again, up, down, up until he let go of her with a wet moan, “Scully. I thought we weren’t fucking tonight.”

Groaning into his forehead, “we’re not.”

“Then you gotta stop doing that or I’m gonna do it accidently and then on purpose and,” she hit another good spot and he dropped his head to her chest, dizzy, roasting, ready, “you gotta stop or else I can’t.”

His strangled last words met her ears, penetrated her brain, foggy as it was and she dropped her hips, unwound her feet, “sorry.”

“Don’t. Fucking. Apologize. For that. Are you insane? I just don’t want to accidently fuck you tonight when I can do it on purpose any other time you’re ready.”

“God, Mulder, I am so ready now, you have no idea.” Squirming, she did something she’d never done in front of anyone, even if it was dark. She reached for her clit and biting unseen lip, “I need to come, Mulder. Can I?”

“God, yes.” Sitting back on his knees, he took himself in hand, hovering over her, feeling her knuckles on the underside of his balls and nearly finishing right then, “can I come on you?”

Her distant ‘mmm-hmm’ followed by movement of her hand gave him his answer and as he stroked, she pressed, he squeezed, she cupped him with her other hand, he held her thigh, she rubbed harder, faster, her hand a practiced demon, his keeping time, her legs tightening around his thighs, his waist, her ass lifting off the bed as she came, running her hand into his balls, sending him where he needed to be, coming in waves as he repeated her name over and over, soaking her belly, the sheets beneath, her hand below …

He stayed where he was, breathing heavy, skin slippery, room humid to his panting lungs, “you okay?”

“I’ll answer when I have my words back.”

With a smile, he waited until she finally moved her legs, then stopped, laughing, “they’re twitching.”

“You’re legs?”

“All my muscle, actually.” Laughing again, “that’s never happened before.”

Moving to stand, he searched around the head of the bed for her face and finding it smiling, warm, beaded with sweat, he made a move to leave all others in the dust.

He kissed her.

Once, then again.

“Want a shower?”

Pulling him back by the neck, she kissed him once, “no. I’d like to go to my room and fall asleep next to you.”

Happy with that prospect, they cleaned up quickly with the bathroom light off, then, sliding between clean sheets, she hugged him from behind, “it’s not quite as dark in here.”

Mulder squeezed her arm, “do we need the dark anymore?”

“Everyone needs the dark now and again.”

“Bravery purposes?”

Already falling asleep, “exactly.”

&&&&&&&&&&

The next morning was only awkward because Mulder had left a sizable bruise on her upper left breast and her blouse barely covered it.

“Fuck it. I’m still gonna put this asshole in prison even if I have a giant Mulder-size suck mark on my chest.”

He loved it when she was saucy.

&&&&&&&&&

After her testimony was over, at 4:45pm to be exact, she came up to where he was leaning on the wall in the hall, reached up and with a grin, scratched her fingers through his now three-day beard growth, eliciting half-closed eyes and a grin the size of Texas, “Mulder.”

“Yes?”

“Take me home.”

“We don’t have blackout curtains at home.”

“That’s just fine by me.”


End file.
